


Aftermath With A Bottle of  Whiskey

by Ottermidnight



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Cemetery, Drabble, Gen, Hurt, Whiskey - Freeform, White Lilies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-31
Updated: 2014-01-31
Packaged: 2018-01-10 16:27:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1161950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ottermidnight/pseuds/Ottermidnight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lately, visiting their graves at least once a week became his recent habit.<br/>Herc came to tell his stories and how much he missed them.<br/>Sometimes he was there to cry<br/>and today, here he was once again, staring down at Chuck’s ledger next to his beloved wife’s.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aftermath With A Bottle of  Whiskey

**Author's Note:**

> This fanfic is actually my first in AO3 and my first English fanfic.  
> English is my third language so please forgive me for any grammatical error.  
> I don't know what else to type because I'm very exciting to post this.  
> Enjoys!!!

Herc woke up nearly noon it was a cloudy day only gleam of light could be seen. He took a shower and had two slices of leftover bread then walked to a florist at the corner of the street where he had lived. A man ordered a large immaculate white bouquet of lilies because it was Angela’s flavor. His wife used to grow in white lilies in their backyard. He remembered the smell of lily filled their house every evening when he came back home after work. Angela would be at the front door greeting him with a warm welcome kiss and Chunk who would be running from the foyer to give him a tight hug and starting to tell him about how fascinating his day was at school.

Of course those memories were his precious because that was all he had left but getting nostalgic about them was another story. Herc was wandering mindlessly on the pavement which only few people sharing the way. It was Sunday afternoon after all where most people had already been taking their day off easily with friends and families. In contrary, no such a day as easy going day for Herc, a man who had seen and experienced far too many tragedies and lost in his life. Even though, he had survived but there were permanent scars on his skin and holes in his heart. 

Emptiness was expensive because it’s something money could not neither fulfill nor compensate. The price of peace for the whole world is costly that perhaps only the left behinds could comprehend how much it cost. His son was gone, now he was alone with solitude as his companion. No matter how much money or fame Herc had earned, he would not be able to bring the dead back to life or find someone to replace them. Chuck and Angela were irreplaceable and would always be.

There were doubts on his mind that these were not enough for them. They do deserved more but these were the best they could offer. Thousands of men and women were buried with nothing but fancy military funeral ceremonies with sound of gunfire in salutation and their names on memorial stone where soon the world would forget all the sacrifice and those ranger names would be dissolved in the sand of time and no one would even bother to either read or remember. The emptied coffins in return for heroes who bravely saved the world and trillion souls from alien’s invasion.

They were somebody’s children

Somebody’s parents

Somebody’s friends

Somebody’s soul mates

Once, these people were once alive and loved by someone

Someone who would not be seen or heard again 

Some families were fortunate enough to find the bodies of their love ones or at least the remaining to put in their coffins. However not every family was that lucky. For Herc, there was no piece of son from the final battle left to be buried. Chunk was swallowed by endless blue of the Pacific Ocean and dissolved into sand speckles, embedding deeply in sapphire embrace. 

“No father should have to bury his child” said the Wiseman.

He decided to bury the vacant coffin of his son next to his mother so they could be together again as Chuck had wished all these years from the very first moment when he realized his mother would never returned to hug him, to kiss his forehead and bid goodnight or to soothe from tears and pain. 

On the first two nights without his mother Chunk cried and desperately begged to see his mother. The poor boy locked himself in a bathroom so his father would not see his tears and his mother might come back, knocking at the door and asked him to open it for her. Chunk hoped it was just a nightmare so eventually he would have to wake up. He waited and wished but she never knocked. 

It was his father who came and unlocked the door with a spare key after the third day. Herc had no idea what he was supposed to say to his son to claim and soothe. He thought he must be the most horrible father in the world. All he could do was held Chunk tightly in his arms and led him his shoulder to cry on. After awhile the cry turned to tuneless sob nearly silence before Chunk’s hoarse tiring voice broke into the air. He stared in Herc’s eyes and asked why he could not save his mother. Herc was speechless and his brain lost its ability to contemplate then before he had realized the tears began to fall down uncontrollable. That was the first and last time Chunk had seen he cried.

 

Nothing was the same since the death of Angela.

 

There are many times he asked himself why and he never got any answer. Why it was him who had a chance to live on instead of his son. He had blamed himself for such an idiotic decision at Hong Kong bay which injured arm. Herc was drowning in regret and remorse where the same cliché echo in his ears day in and day out. There was not a single day he could go through without blaming himself.

What kind of father traded his son life for his own? 

How could he suppose to live on with his grief and failures? 

As a father; He was the one who suppose to protect Chunk.

First, he could not save Angela then disappointed Chuck that could not be able to save his mother. Finally, he also broke the promise with Angela because he had let their son died. Herc had doubted that would Angela be angry at him or worst, even hate him. No matter which one she would have chosen, He does deserved it.

Chuck was young, too young for a suicidal mission. He grew up inside the shatterdome with Jaeger crews as his friends and Max as his best friend or properly his only family member. His boy hadn't seen the rest of the world or lived a real life either. Never felt in love or had a chance to have family and settle down then grow old like others.

Lately, visiting their graves at least once a week became his recent habit. Herc came to tell his stories and how much he missed them. Sometimes he was there to cry and today, here he was once again, staring down at Chuck’s ledger next to his beloved wife’s. 

But today visit was different

It was a special day 

Herc stopped in front of an old liqueur store the one he had recalled passing by it a bit more than a hundred of times but he never stepped foot inside on the way. He entered the shop and got out ten minutes after, brought along a bottle of whisky along with two glasses in a brown paper bag. He was not a big fan of liquor since when he was a teenage but after losing Angela he found liquor was his best companion and remedy to drowse his agony and sorrow. Herc became a worthless alcoholic for years, neglected the reality and his son. He did not want to repeat those years so he stopped drinking because he wanted to be a better father. Ironically, Herc never thought he do succeeded, not when he had lost his son so he began to drink again.

The man did not pay much attention on his journey he was more wandering in his thoughts rather than on concrete path at his feet. He only wanted to reach the destination, the only place in this world where he could feel a little closer to his dearest wife and son. He dreamt about them sometimes but not often enough as he had wished and mostly woke up with inevitable tears and melancholy. 

The walk from his house to cemetery was long but he preferred a solitudinous walk when he was not in haste. The sky started to glow in yellow with the hint of orange when he finally arrived at cemetery late in the afternoon. There was no sign of others it was almost quiet, only few birds were chiming from distance in the soft chilling wind.

He stood still for several minutes before laid the bouquet of white lilies in front of Angela’s ledger and sat down on soft green grass mattress. The man poured the generous amount of the amber liquid into both glasses. The man offered the first glass to his son ledger and holding another one in front of himself. Herc was overwhelming by so many unspeakable feelings before he could manage to speak something out. There was a long pause before he spoke.

 

“Happy birthday, Chuck”

 

“Happy birthday son…” 

He said those in soft tune akin a whisper which fumed easily into cool evening breeze. Herc raised a glass up and took a generous amount of amber liquor in one gulp when tears had begun to roll down from both of his eyes while the sensation of whisky was burning down his throat.


End file.
